


Shadow Play

by InNovaFertAnimus



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gaslighting, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2020-05-16 01:18:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InNovaFertAnimus/pseuds/InNovaFertAnimus
Summary: His eyes are drawn to Lady Lunafreya’s letter on his nightstand, the envelope somehow still as white as on the first day. He's brought it as a good luck charm, but Prompto has the urge to hide it somewhere, just so it stops glaring at him. Yes, he's missed his chance to try to befriend the then-prince and maybe that was Prompto’s own fault, but it’s not like it matters in the grand scheme of things. It still makes him somewhat sad to admit, but Lady Lunafreya was wrong and that’s actually far more likely than Prompto befriending any royal. He forgives her. She’s been what, sixteen when he found Pryna? Teenagers make mistakes. Like believing a letter from someone they’ve never met over the hard facts. Like deciding to join the Crownsguard, when the crown prince was quitting public school before they could work up the nerve to talk to him.Prompto's just turned twenty when he starts working at the Citadel. He didn't expected to get assigned to King Noctis' personal guard only a few days in, but it happens. He expected even less to stumble over a conspiracy to bring down all of Lucis.Written for Gaslighting on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic for my [bingo card](https://deducitetemporacarmen.tumblr.com/post/182967901983/badthingshappenbingo-square-shock-collar-rating). I'm gonna cross it off as soon as I've finished this fic :)

Walking through the Citadel in his Crownsguard attire feels a lot different than in civilian clothes. It feels like he belongs, something Prompto didn’t think possible until he got his official letter of acceptance a week ago. He’s been training a lot and he knows the instructors were quite satisfied with him, but it still came as a surprise. It seems like the peace treaty negotiations are not as friendly as the media is trying to make them out to be. 

The building plans of the Citadel were given to them weeks ahead, even being part of the exams he had to pass, but they barely reflect how impressive the Citadel really is. Marshal Drautos is right about that. If push comes to shove, they don’t have the time to think, they have to know the grounds by heart. A map doesn’t quite cut it. Drautos instructed the new recruits to cover the whole Citadel at least five times before their actual shifts start next week. Prompto plans to double that number. A part of the reason for that might be the simple beauty of the Citadel, but Marshal Drautos doesn’t need to know that. Taking pictures is against protocol, still he wishes he would have brought his camera.

There are conference rooms ahead of him, some guest suites, then there’s the gardens. It’s not really fresh air because of the glass dome spanning over it, but he’s been dying to check it out. It’s difficult to keep walking at a moderate pace and not sprint outright as he rounds the next corner towards the entrance.

The gardens are not that big, but really lavish despite it being in the middle of winter. There’s a path winding between flowers upon flowers Prompto has never seen before. He wants his camera really bad. The stones of the path stop and turn into grass after a bit, leaving some space open for use. Towards the center there are some bushes, even smaller trees. Prompto thinks he can even hear some water running.

Curiously Prompto steps on the grass, walking towards the sound of water.

He finds a fountain hidden behind a tree. It’s beautiful and surrounded by the all the green, he almost forgets he’s still in the Citadel.

A quiet sound of cloth rustling makes Prompto turn his head to the side just before he freezes.

King Noctis is sitting down in the grass. There’s a cat in his lap, a small black one, almost invisible against his clothes. King Noctis is looking down on it, a small private smile on his lips. His hand strokes over the cat’s head, making it purr with every move.

He looks a bit different than Prompto remembers him. Of course it’s been five years since he last saw him in person, but lately the king’s appearances in public were getting sparse. Declining health they said, even though he looked fine in the pictures and videos. Now being close up, Prompto can see it. The king looks pale, tired, even though he’s smiling. A bit younger as well, more like the age he actually is. Prompto catches himself staring, like intruding into the king’s personal free time isn’t bad enough.

He’s slowly taking a step back, when the cat notices him.

It looks up to Prompto, flicks its ears back and jumps from the king’s lap to disappear into the bushes.

The king’s head shoots up, meeting Prompto’s gaze dead on. Prompto wishes he could disappear into the bushes like the cat, but his body won’t move. There’s surprise crossing King Noctis’ face in the blink of an eye, then something else that's too quickly gone to read, before he settles into a neutral expression.

“Don’t report that.”

His tone is odd, almost anxious. Prompto doesn’t understand. He’s pretty sure he’s supposed to bow or something though, he actually aced the test on etiquette, but he can’t move. What is even there to report? It’s not even his official first day as Crownsguard and he’s already messing it up.

“What?”

Prompto could slap himself. Or scream.  _What?_ Very eloquent, so respectful. If the ground could just swallow him whole, he would send a dozen handwritten thank-you letters to Titan himself.

The king glances away for a moment.

 “Please.”

Prompto can only stare on. He’s so out of his depth, he might as well be twelve again.

There’s an alarm going off somewhere close. The king curses under his breath, pulling out his phone. He swipes over it once, then he’s getting his feet under him. Prompto isn’t sure if he should offer a hand, but he’s still frozen on the spot anyway.

The brace around the king’s knee glints in the sunlight. Prompto can see that King Noctis hesitates to put weight on it. He pauses for a moment, as if he thinks about saying something else, but he stays silent. Prompto unfreezes in time to step aside and let him through, then the king is gone from sight.

Prompto stays there for a few moments, unsure what exactly just happened, but very sure this was not good. And he’s still standing there like an idiot. Even though he’s alone now, being in the garden feels too public to freak out. The king thought he was alone too, his mind supplies unhelpfully. He doesn’t run back into his quarters, but it’s a close thing.

 

* * *

 

_Prompto checks his phone again, hoping that his teacher won’t notice. In ten minutes it’s going to be lunch break. Sneaking a glance at the prince a few rows in front of him, looking bored as always, Prompto feels his nervousness spike again, but he ignores it. Today is going to be the day. He’s going to approach Prince Noctis, casually during lunch, maybe slapping his shoulder, and he’s going to introduce himself. He doesn’t really dare to think further, but he’s going to manage. They’re going to be friends. He’s got the Oracle on his side, what could go wrong?_

_Without a knock, the door of his classroom flies open. Prompto almost drops his phone._

_There’s a young man in the doorway. Prompto recognizes him as the prince’s advisor. His teacher falls silent, looking at the new arrival stunned, but before he can say anything, Prince Noctis stands up abruptly._

_Prompto can only watch as Prince Noctis leaves the classroom in hurried steps. His advisor closes the door behind him silently. After a few beats of silence, their teacher clears her throat and continues with the lesson. Prompto can’t focus on her, his eyes fixated on the Prince’s empty seat._

 

* * *

 

Prompto spends the next morning thinking about if he could recover from the possibly worst second first impression ever. It doesn’t really take long to come to a conclusion. He can’t and that’s fine. His eyes are drawn to Lady Lunafreya’s letter on his nightstand, the envelope somehow still as white as on the first day. He's brought it as a good luck charm, but Prompto has the urge to hide it somewhere, just so it stops glaring at him. Yes, he's missed his chance to try to befriend the then-prince and maybe that was Prompto’s own fault, but it’s not like it matters in the grand scheme of things. It still makes him somewhat sad to admit, but Lady Lunafreya was wrong and that’s actually far more likely than Prompto befriending any royal. He forgives her. She’s been what, sixteen when he found Pryna? Teenagers make mistakes. Like believing a letter from someone they’ve never met over the hard facts. Like deciding to join the Crownsguard, when the crown prince was quitting public school before they could work up the nerve to talk to him.

At least joining the Crownsguard itself was a good decision, even for the wrong reasons, and Prompto is glad he stuck to it. It’s far more than Prompto ever thought he could do.

Over the course of the day he fetches more of his stuff from his old apartment and finds a spot for his framed pictures. It’s good that he doesn’t own all that much stuff, because his room is rather small. He doesn’t really mind though. When he’s somewhat satisfied with his attempts at decoration, he lets himself fall on his bed and pulls out his phone. There’s not that much time left before he has to go to the next training session, at least not enough to make another round.

He eyes the pile of papers he still has to go over on his desk with resignation. Might as well get started on those.

The first few pages are copies of the forms he’s already filled out, now with the official insignia of the crown stamped at the bottom of the page. He takes a note to buy a new folder for those kind of documents and sets them aside.

To his surprise, the next stack is a medical report. He opens it, expecting it to be another copy of his own, but it’s not. It’s the king’s.

Prompto hesitates, keeping his eyes firmly in one place not to skim over it. Since it’s included in his files, they probably want him to. It makes sense for him to know about all the conditions he needs to be aware off, if he has to protect King Noctis. Still, it feels like a huge invasion of privacy. It takes a bit of time to convince himself that it’s his job.

There’s a lot of medical history and nothing is redacted from the looks of it. And he means a lot. It starts with excessive check-ups to make sure the king doesn’t carry his mother’s sickness. Then there’s a whole page on the injuries he got from the Marilith including even pictures of the lacerations on his back as a child. Prompto doesn’t look at them, both out of respect and to keep his lunch in. Prompto remembers the news about the demon attack, but seeing the actual damage is something else. Multiple surgeries on his back and left knee follow, a summary on the physical therapy he went under. It’s still going on it seems, referencing a page further back. Prompto skips ahead and finds a report on the effects of the ring of the Lucii and powering the wall. Prompto doesn’t understand a lot of the medical terminology, but he gets the gist of it. Holding up the wall costs a lot of energy, more than the king could cope with when he first took the ring five years ago.

He skips ahead once more, not really wanting to deal with more details right now.

At the end there’s a list of the specified information summarized. He reads through it more carefully, hoping they will actually be of practical use.

Some of it is already familiar, but not everything. The wall drains the king’s life force, chipping away at his body. Chronic pain in his back and knee, a left-over from the Marilith coming back with vengeance from the strain the wall puts on him. Physical exercise above the bare minimum is to be avoided, walking longer than a few minutes without a break included. Cold or high humidity make the pain flare up, strong painkillers are advised to keep on hand. It also means he needs a lot of sleep not to make it even worse. There’s going to be a high-ranking Crownsguard checking in on him randomly in the night. Apparently the risk of leaving the king unobserved for such a long time is too high. It’s pretty intrusive in Prompto’s opinion, but somewhat understandable after the attack two years back. They are lucky King Noctis even survived that night.  After that there’s a paragraph about where the guard has to accompany the king and it’s basically everywhere. They need to wait in front of his study and his personal chambers, but apart from that there are only a few places where the king may wander around without at least one guard following him. Prompto frowns as he sees the garden is not on that short list. He didn’t see a guard anywhere yesterday, but maybe he was just too surprised to notice.

His breath catches at the next line.

Severe allergy to animals, any incident is to be reported to prohibit aggravation.

Of course. Prompto’s eyes widen in understanding. At least now he knows how exactly he’s fucked up.

It’s been a day already, he wonders if it’s too late to report already. It doesn’t really make sense. If the allergy was that bad, the king wouldn’t go near a cat, would he? At least he didn’t seem worried about the cat itself. He seemed worried about Prompto.

_Don’t report it. Please._

Prompto bites his lips. He’s pretty sure that an order from the king himself outweighs details in the code of conduct, does it? The Crownsguard was founded to protect the royal family after all, their Marshal is still under the orders of the king. Deciding to keep quiet for now, Prompto just hopes King Noctis doesn’t die of an allergic shock and gets Prompto executed.

The king’s schedule for the month is right behind that. The days look mostly the same, some council meetings, time in his office, physical therapy, time in his personal chambers and on the throne. Some delegations are shaking it up a bit, but that was it.

He slowly makes his way further through the stack of papers. His shift plan somewhere in the back. He knows he won’t start until next week, but being prepared never harmed anyone. Unsurprisingly he’s mostly stationed at the main gate with a senior Crownsguard supervising him, sometimes other exits in the Citadel. It’s going to be pretty boring until he ranks high enough to actually be set to something else, but he doesn’t really mind. At least he’ll have a job to do.

 

* * *

 

_The news hit later in the afternoon, just after Prompto arrives home. The first time Prompto thinks he doesn’t hear it right, but it’s repeated so often that it can’t be the case._

_The king is dead._

_There are no details, no press releases to the cause, just the fact that the king is dead._

_His parents call a little later. They’re on their way to the airport, cutting their business trip short. They sound scared, asking him about Insomnia, asking him about his well-being._

_Prompto answers them almost mechanically. Nothing of it feels real._

 

* * *

 

The gardens lie in front of him quietly and looking deserted. That’s what he thought back then as well. Prompto bites his lips. He doesn’t want to skip them, as he did on the last two rounds, but the run-in with the king is still fresh in his mind. If there was any allergy related emergency resulting from his silence, he hasn’t heard of it. So he’s safe for now, at least he hopes so.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t still cringe when he inevitable recalls his encounter with the king. Maybe it going to be enough if he covers them on his next round again. Marshal Drautos might not even-

 “Hey.”

Prompto starts and turns his head to the side in search for the source.

The king is standing right next to him in the corridor, looking at him curiously. Of course it’s the king, because the Astrals hate Prompto. There’s no guard accompanying him, again.

 Only after a moment of starting at him dumbfounded Prompto remembers to take a bow. He’s so not good at this, so he just stays down for good measure.

There’s a beat of silence between them, before he hears King Noctis’ voice again.

“Rise.”

Prompto does as he’s told to find the king still looking at him, his eyes very blue and cold. It’s a stark difference between now and the last time, the difference between the boy Prompto could have known in another life and the king of Lucis.

“I thought I would catch you here again. What’s your name?”

He’s going to get kicked out. There’s no way King Noctis wouldn’t recognize the guard creeping in on him. He is going to give Prompto’s name to the Marshal and Prompto is going to be kicked out, he's sure of it. Staying quiet is not really an option though.

“Prompto Argentum.”

There’s a strange pause. Maybe the king waits for Prompto to apologize. He should anyway, but Prompto is still too stunned to do anything. It’s almost funny that this happens the second time now and Prompto is still as unprepared as the first time.

The king’s eyes are still drilling into him.

“You didn’t tell about the cat.”

It’s a statement, not a question, if a surprising one. Prompto shakes his head no anyway.

“You told me not to,” remember the test, come on brain, how to address royalty, you can do it, “your Majesty.”

The king tilts his head slightly, letting his gaze sweep up and down over Prompto.

“You’re new, aren’t you?”

Prompto swallows heavily.

“Yes, I am, your Majesty.”

There is another beat of silence between them and Prompto doesn’t know what to do. His conversation style is more of a barge-in-overshare-and-run kind and he already learned to tune it down for the Crowsguard, but silence is really not his thing.

Before Prompto can say something stupid though, King Noctis glances away and clears his throat. From one moment to the other the air around them changes.

“Well, thank you,” he sticks his hand into his pockets and slouches a bit. “for not fulfilling your duty, I guess.”

It’s not what Prompto expected. He needs a moment to recover.

“I’m sworn to the king first, then the Crownsguard, your majesty.”

It’s startling as King Noctis lets out a huff, sounding almost amused. “Don’t tell Drautos you’ve said that.” He pauses and looks down at his hands, losing the amusement fast. “The allergy’s not always bad. Sometimes nothing even happens. I’d rather take the chance, you know?”

So really nothing happened. That would have been a nice detail to read in that damned file. Prompto feels relief flooding through him, but it only lasts a moment before King Noctis looks up again and narrows his eyes at him.

“Have we met somewhere? You look familiar.”

To say the question catches Prompto off-guard would be an understatement. He didn’t think the king would remember him. Prompto has never been remarkable in any sense. Lady Lunafreya’s letter pops into his head.

_I hope you can continue being a good friend to him._

Yeah, such a good friend that Prompto made one failed attempt and then was too embarrassed to try again, because he was called heavy. Like he wasn’t called worse by the kids in the neighbor class. It’s ridiculous, that he’s apparently still hung up on that.

Prompto raises his hand to rub his neck. At least he can admit to the less embarrassing parts of his failure. The king doesn’t need to know, Prompto actually spent years of his life getting himself together to maybe talk to him with nothing to show.

“Actually, we had chemistry together in school.”

The king blinks at him, surprised.

“Huh. Can’t say I remember much of that.”

“Hard to remember when you were sleeping on your desk most of the time.”

Prompto snaps his own mouth shut, his eyes widening in shock. He said that aloud, didn’t he? For a moment Past-Prompto cramming for the etiquette test is hurling every curse in Eos at his head.

He’s so busy with trying to turn that comment around, that he almost misses the king smiling, actually smiling.

“You might have a point.”

He pulls out his phone, which just started to vibrate, and glances at the screen for a moment before slipping past him.  

“See you around then, Prompto Argentum.”

The way he says Prompto’s name makes Prompto think that this is not quite over. He watches the king retreating, still no guard in sight. Even though Prompto is not officially on duty yet and years away from the chance to get assigned to the king himself, he thinks about following him. Half a guard is better than no guard, he thinks, but his feet stay firmly in place.

The king is almost around the corner when Prompto finds his voice.

“Yes, your majesty.”

King Noctis doesn’t turn before he disappears into another corridor. Why would he.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“Argentum.”

Prompto’s supervisor falls silent at the marshal’s voice. Drautos stands in the doorway of his office, eyes fixed on him. Swallowing once, Prompto turns to him.

“Sir?”

“In my office.”

He doesn’t wait for Prompto to follow as he turns back, only leaving the door open behind him. The other guards look at him curiously, but go on discussing their schedule for the day as Prompto follows the Marshal inside.

He closes the door behind him quietly, leaving him alone with Marshal Titus Drautos.

Slowly Prompto turns to the man at the desk, who’s staring at him intently.

“Is there anything you want to tell me, Argentum?”

It’s the cat incident. Of course it is. Maybe the allergy reaction was just delayed. Maybe the king decided to kick him out for creeping after all. But the king told him not to report. So that’s what Prompto’s going to do. Hopefully. He can already feel his stomach turning at the prospect of lying to the Marshal.

“No, sir.”

Marshal Drautos still stares at him questioning. He knows. Prompto is sure of it. There was a guard with the king after all, reporting him for not reporting. Prompto is only moments away from caving, when Drautos goes on.

“So the king just asked me to put you on his personal guard for no reason?”

Prompto just barely manages to hold in his first reaction, which would have been another ‘ _What?_ ’. Maybe that’s a mistake, because now he doesn’t have any idea how to answer that at all.  Amazing, how he can never talk like a normal person when it counts.

“We had chemistry together?”

He winces at himself, but seriously that’s the best he’s got.

The marshal raises one eyebrow.

“Interesting. And the king became aware of this how?”

At least he doesn’t have to get creative about that.

“I ran into him in the gardens, sir.”

“Alone?”

Prompto glances away, hoping he’s not getting anyone in trouble.

“I think so?”

Drautos mutters something under his breath. He checks another paper on his desk, making a note. It doesn’t look like it’s a happy one.

“If you ‘run into him’ alone again, I expect you to stick to the king, on duty or not, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Prompto is still braced to get chewed out any minute, but Marshal Drautos nods to himself once, scribbles something down and ignores him. Prompto watches him leafing through a small stack of papers, crossing out several bits and adding handwritten remarks. It takes some time for him to work through it. Prompto almost thinks the Marshal has forgotten he’s here, when he looks back up to him. A few moments pass as he stares at him just like before. Prompto thinks it’s starting, but then Drautos signs off a paper at the top of the stack and hands it over to Prompto. It’s a new schedule, assigning him to King Noctis’ personal guard.

“Just know, that I will not hesitate to kick you out if you mess up. If I’m going to promote a new recruit, they have to impress, understand?”

Prompto nods, eyes still on the schedule. He only looks up when Drautos speaks again.  

“You’re lucky we need another long-range fighter around the king. Consider it a one-time only favor. Dismissed.”

Prompto needs a moment to spring into action, only starting to realize what just happened.

“Yes, sir, thank you.”

Prompto bows once and leaves the office. The other guards have already left for their shift. Sitting down on one of the benches in the back, he takes a closer look at his new schedule. He’s supposed to start in the evening today to relief the guard in front of the king’s chambers for the night. In fact, he only has shifts in the late evening or early morning. It’s probably just as boring as his position at the gate. He’s going to be the only one on the king’s detail that won’t even see him. Somehow Prompto doesn’t have the feeling he should be too glad about this promotion.

 

***

 

_There’s an official statement in the morning._

_The king’s death was sudden, unexpected, but so far they have no evidence that supports anything but a natural cause. The royal physicians theorize that the renewed effort of Niflheim’s army to break the wall and the resulting actions of the Glaive put too much of a strain on the king’s life force._

_The statement is read out by Clarus Amicitia, the king’s Shield. Prompto wonders for a second if he still has an official position at the Citadel, now that his king is dead. He wonders what happens to a Shield without a king to protect._

_Prince Noctis is nowhere to be seen._

 

***

 

It is indeed boring. He’s got the advantage of lots of free time during the day, but his job consists of standing In front of the king’s door and trying not to yawn too much. He learns the faces of the higher ranking guards checking up on the king during the night, but most of the times it’s Drautos himself. He’s not entirely wrong about not seeing the king either. If he happens to be still on duty by the time the king leaves for the day, one of the king’s advisors comes to fetch him with another guard in their company. King Noctis usually looks still half asleep, but he always nods at Prompto in passing. He probably does that with every guard though.

“Don’t take it too hard, kid.”

Crowe’s hand falls on Prompto’s shoulder. She’s been checking up on the king the third time since Prompto’s shifts started and she always takes some time to chat with him a little. He knows she came with the last remaining Glaives after Drautos assumed command. She’s kind of terrifying to watch at the training grounds, but he likes her.

“You know Drautos won’t let a frog do much of the heavy lifting, detail or not.”

Prompto smiles at her tiredly. Tonight he can’t wait for his shift to be over and fall into his bed.

“It’s fine, really I didn’t expect him to.”

She laughs. “Be glad or else the whole guard would call you the king’s pet. Still don’t know how you managed that.”

His laugh in return is a bit forced. It’s not like anyone actually gives him a hard time about it, but that's probably only because they're too afraid of going against Drautos' orders. Some members of the Crownsguard are less than pleased with Prompto’s new position. There are some rumors going on, some rather ridiculous, some downright mean. He tries not to let it get to him, but on some days it’s harder than on others.

“I’ll tell you first if I ever find out.”

It comes out less cheery than he wanted it to. Crowe notices of course. She wouldn’t have the rank, if she wasn’t observant. She squeezes his shoulder slightly before she lets go of him.

“No seriously, don’t take it too hard. Only Tredd and his mediocre band of babies are bitching about this. They’re all bark no bite.” She winks at him good-naturedly. “I’ve seen you at the shooting range. You’ll get your chance to prove yourself soon enough.”

Stretching her arms above her head, she takes a step into the direction of the Crownsguard quarters. She waves at him goodbye with a smile before turning her back towards him.

“See me at the training grounds for your knife skills though, if you don’t want to stab yourself in the near future.”

Prompto waves back at her, even though she can’t see.  

“Will do!”

The rest of his shift isn’t actually too bad after.

 

***

 

_Since his parents came home, they barely let him out of their sight. It’s nice in a way, but he’s neither blind nor stupid. He knows what he looks like. There’s no day without a new incident of violence against so-called foreigners._

_He sees his mother stop in the supermarket in front of the hair colorants, walking on when she notices him watching. His dad takes up the habit of driving him to school and picking him up again after, even joins him on most of his runs. Father-son bonding time he calls it and always puts himself between Prompto and any stranger they pass.  
_

_Prompto knows they plan to leave soon and he knows they want to take him with them._

_He’s not sure if he wants to go though._

 

***

 

Prompto stifles a yawn and the urge to check his phone. The sun has only risen, so it’s going to be at least another hour until the king gets up, but Prompto's relief should be here any moment. Most of the time Prompto can't imagine sleeping as long as the king does, but at the moment twelve hours seem entirely possible.

The door flies open next to him without any warning. Prompto barely manages to jump aside to not get hit by it.

He doesn’t get what’s happening, but there’s King Noctis, running down the corridor and disappearing around the corner. He has a moment of panic. There’s nobody else around. Then Drautos’ words echo in Prompto’s head and he takes off. Stick to the king. All the morning runs finally pay off as Prompto skirts around the corner soon enough to see where the king is going next. He has to admit he imagined him to be slower after the medical report.

He catches up to him just as the king stops in front of one of the conference rooms.

King Noctis pulls open the doors with flourish.

There’s nobody inside. The king stops in his tracks, then swirls around. Prompto has to jump out of the way again.

King Noctis takes a sharp turn to the right and knocks on another door, a small office for the coordinators.

Someone inside calls them in just as King Noctis opens it. He holds it open with one hand, not stepping in and still a bit out of breath from his sprint.

“Hey Juva, where’s the revision?”

Prompto glances over the king’s shoulder into the room.

There’s a woman sitting behind a desk with a file open in front of her, middle-aged with dark hair and glasses. Juva then. Prompto has seen her around the Citadel a few times.

Juva turns away from her work with a confused smile.

“I’m afraid I can’t quite follow, your Majesty.”

She doesn’t really seem phased by King Noctis’ appearance, which Promtpo only now really takes in. He's wearing rather ratty sneakers under what looks like pajama pants. His golden knee brace is slipped on and he's wearing the short cape with the gold chain, but the vest below is not even done up halfway with a simple tank top underneath.

“About the peace treaty. They’re not in the main conference room.”

Juva looks at him for a moment, before placing the folder in her hands carefully on the desk. Her smile doesn’t falter, but there’s a new tone to it. Prompto can’t quite tell if it’s amusement or pity.

“The first revision of the peace treaty took place yesterday. There should be a report in your study already, your Majesty. Mr. Humiditas was send to bring it in yesterday afternoon.”

The king opens his mouth, looking ready to argue, but he closes it again soundlessly.

Nodding at Juva, he turns around. The door falls shut behind him.

Prompto follows him out wordlessly, because he doesn't really know what else to do. This time the king doesn’t start running at least. Instead he takes out his phone, tapping a few times at the screen and frowning as he takes a turn left with a barely nocitable limp. It gets worse by the time they arrive at his study. Prompto can see the way King Noctis’ teeth are gritted, but Prompto doesn’t dare to say anything.

As they enter the study, the king makes a beeline for his desk.

There is a stack of folders on top of it he skims through before stopping at one close at the bottom. King Noctis stares at it, before his face closes off.

He carefully pulls it out and places it on front of the chair, ready to read, but he doesn’t move. He stays on the other side of the table, eyes fixed on the cover.

“What day of the week is it?”

Prompto needs a moment to realize King Noctis is talking to him.

“Wednesday.”

The king nods to himself, taking out his phone again. He looks at the screen once more before slamming it onto the surface of the desk. Prompto winces. He can see the hands of the king balling into fists.

“Are you all right, your Majesty?”

King Noctis’ head snaps back up to him.

“Who gave permission for you to enter my study, Crownsguard?”

Prompto’s mouth snaps shut before he quickly bows and turns on his heels. He deserved that. He doesn’t even know what made him follow him inside. It’s not his place. He’s almost back in the corridor, when he hears the king’s voice behind him.

“I’m sorry.”

Prompto halts with one foot out of the door, risking a quick look over his shoulder.

King Noctis brings this hands up to his face and takes a deep breath before lowering them again.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you. I'm sorry." The king he glances down at himself after a moment. He chuckles mirthlessly as he makes an attempt at buttoning his vest correctly."It’s not your fault I can’t function for even one week.”

He looks up again at Prompto after he's done, clearly expecting Prompto to say something.

Prompto knows what he should do, nod politely, maybe even telling him it's fine, and step out and wait in front of the door, like a Crownsguard is supposed to. A moment passes and the king looks away again, his shoulder slumping.

Prompto’s mouth opens.

“I missed the first training for the Crowsguard.”

The statement makes the king turn back to him, looking both confused and oddly relieved. Prompto can’t risk thinking too much about that, so he goes on. “I arrived at the Citadel three hours early and the guards at the gate marked me a suspicious element for loitering around, so they didn’t let me in.”

The king blinks at him in surprise, then the corners of his mouth twist up.

“I see, appointing you was the right decision. At least we match-” He cuts himself off with a gasp as he tries shifting his weight to his other leg, his hands flying back to his desk to support him. He stays like that, breathing in deeply through the pain.

Prompto bites his lips.

“Is there anything I can do for you, your Majesty?”

King Noctis shakes his head, still not daring to move. “I should get myself a headstart on this.” He waves vaguely in the direction of the papers on his desk.

Prompto doubts there’s anything he should do other than putting his leg up with some ice.

“Take the file, lie back down?”

The king shakes his head, the corners of his mouth dipping down.

“I don’t think I can walk that far at the moment.”

Prompto waits for him to move around the desk, to dismiss him. There’s no reason that Prompto still hovers around in the king’s personal study. Neither happens though. Prompto hopes it’s not because the king can’t really walk at all right now or only in a way that he wouldn’t want Prompto to see. But then he could simply send Prompto away, except maybe he really feels bad about snapping at Promtpo. Either way, Prompto doesn’t think King Noctis is in a condition he should be working in.

“Uhm, I wouldn’t mind helping you get there.”

The king looks at him for a moment, still visibly unhappy with the situation, but contemplating. Prompto notices how he discretely tries shifting some weight on his bad leg again only to pull back after an instant. He lets out a soft sigh.

“That would be great. Thanks.”

Prompto slowly approaches at those words. Hesitating only for a moment, he steps in close to the king’s side. The king’s hand settles on his shoulder as Prompto reaches around his back to grip his side. King Noctis takes the file from his desk with his free hand, then carefully takes the first step. It’s a bit strange to get so close, but neither of them say anything as they slowly make it out of the study.

Prompto knows that the king is trying to let Prompto take as little of his weight, at least at first. The king’s grip gets tighter on him with every step. His face pales, but stays carefully blank as he leans more and more on Prompto.

It seems to take hours to get back to the king’s chambers. Prompto spots his relief just turning the corner at the other end of the corridor just as they arrive at their destination. It’s Tredd and Prompto knows the next week is going to be worse again. He turns away from him, stopping with the king in front of the door.

“Give me a sec, I can take it from here.”

Prompto’s grip tightens a bit, carefully not to disturb the king’s balance as he lets go of Prompto’s shoulder to reach for the door handle. The king reaches inside and pulls out a cane which must have been waiting at the door. Prompto takes it as his cue to step back.

King Noctis turns around to him, using the cane to support his bad leg. He looks exhausted already. Prompto hopes there’s not too much on his schedule today, but that's probably in vain.

“Thanks for the lift. I’ll go and be a burden in my bed now for a while.”

Prompto doesn’t think king Noctis has any idea what counts as heavy, really.

“You think they let anyone into the Crownsguard who can’t carry the king, your Majesty?”

King Noctis huffs. Prompto waits for him to turn around and disappear into his chambers, but he doesn’t, so Prompto waits. After another moment of silence King Noctis takes a step back, still holding the door open. He clears his throat once, his head turned a bit to the side.

“Just Noctis is fine.” He glances at Prompto for a moment, then looks away again. “If you want to.”

Prompto manages to keep his hands by himself and not deliver an awkward slap on the king’s shoulder, but it’s a close thing.

“Sure, Noctis.”

He gives an awkward wave instead, but it’s a step up. Noctis even does the same, looking weirdly relieved before he disappears into his chambers.

Prompto nearly forgot about Tredd until he hears a quiet chuckle to his right. Tredd is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“You think getting cozy with the king is going to help you stay on after the treaty is signed?”

Prompto just stares at him, not answering.

Tredd scoffs and leaves his perch to walk towards him.

“You think it helped Scientia, when they kicked him out? Or Amicitia? Do you think they cared, that basically their whole life revolved around the king?”

Prompto glances back at the door of the king’s chamber. He should just go, but his feet won’t move.

“What do you mean?”

Tredd stops in front of him, a little too close for Prompto’s liking. He squints down at him, smirking.

“Where are you from, Blondie? Tenebrae? Maybe Niflheim even?”

Prompto involuntary takes a step back, forcing his arms at his side, so he doesn’t fidget with his wristband.

Tredd doesn’t follow, but he looks pleased at Prompto’s reaction.

“The moment they don’t need us anymore, they’re going to send us back to the gutter where they’ve picked us up. You should think about who your allies are in here, because the king isn’t one.”

Finally Prompto’s feet start to obey him again. He doesn’t say anything as he walks away, he can’t. Tredd calls something after him, but he refuses to listen.

 

***

 

_They broadcast the funeral ceremony live. Prompto watches at home, sitting between his parents on their couch._

_He doesn’t know if it is something they should watch. Of course King Regis’ death is a loss for all of Lucis, but this should be private._

_Prince Noctis stands behind the coffin, lined up with the king’s closer circle. He looks pale, almost dwarfed between his shield and his advisor. The camera focuses in on him in the next shot in a close up. It’s obvious he’s been crying._

_They shouldn’t watch this. Prompto’s mouth stays shut._

***

 

“I don’t think Drautos gave you the talk, did he?”

Prompto’s expression must have slipped, because Crowe starts to laugh at him. Despite her laughter she flips her knife flawlessly once more to change grips, this time slower to make it easier for Prompto to follow.

“No, not _that_ kind of talk. I mean about the king.”

Prompto breathes out in relief. “I don’t think so.” He fumbles the beginning, but manages to copy the move this time. Cheering out loud would be embarrassing, so he just grins as he looks back up to Crowe.

Somehow her good mood seems to have vanished, looking at him with a thoughtful expression.

Prompto’s smile drops instantly. Out of the corner of his eyes he catches a guard pointing him out to his group at the other end of the training ground and not even trying to be subtle about it.

“Is this about Wednesday?”

Crowe huffs and sheets her knife with another quick twirl. “Kinda. Let’s have a short break.”

Prompto nods wordlessly and follows her to the benches where they’ve left their stuff. Crowe grabs her water bottle and sits down, patting the spot next to her. Getting his own bottle, Prompto complies.

Crowe lets her eyes roam over the training grounds before shifting on the bench to look at Prompto, one of her legs propped up.

She lowers her voice a little.

“Usually Drautos does this when people get appointed to higher positions, but I guess since your schedule is designed to be pretty king-less so far, he held off. It’s not really common knowledge, although it’s basically an open secret around here. Hard not to notice, if you work with the king, you know?”

Prompto looks at her, trying not to let his expression slip.

She takes a sip from her bottle, leaning against the wall with her shoulder as if they are just talking about something mundane. The other people pay them no mind.

“I don’t really know how to say it without sounding like a bitch, but the king is... not quite right in the head. Turns out getting used as a magic battery isn’t exactly healthy for a teenager. Who would have thought.”

Prompto tries to makes sense of her words, but it seems like his brain simply refuses to. He shakes his head lightly.

“I don’t understand. He seems fine.”

Crowe huffs, putting her bottle on the ground next to her. “Yeah, they’ve been working at his appearance. You’ve seen him with his phone?”

Prompto frowns but nods.

“He sets alarms for everything. When he’s supposed to be where and what he’s supposed to be doing. It still doesn’t always work though.”

“Like Wednesday.”

Crowe nods. “I guess he took down the wrong day or something. Happened before.”

Prompto drinks some water to stop himself biting at his lips.

“When did this start?”

Crowe shrugs.

“Don’t really know, but it's gotten worse since I got here. Missed meetings and disappearing documents is just the beginning, if you ask me. The wall sucks him dry.”

Of course it’s the wall. Prompto recalls the king’s medical file, all the old conditions flaring up and worsening, only adding to all the new conditions listed. It’s a sickening thought, but a brain is just another part of the body. If the king is taking damage from the magic usage, why should it be spared?

“So yeah, we need to get this peace treaty done and fast. I don't think he's going to hold out much longer. And if Niflheim finds out, everything besides an unconditional surrender is off the table.”

 

***

 

_Noctis’ birthday was last week. They planned festivities and a coronation ceremony, but they were scratched at last minute. A celebration is a strange thing to think about in the wake of Niflheim pushing back their borders slowly and steadily. That and the wavering of the wall. Maybe that’s why the news like to latch onto rumors on an alternative date for the coronation, even though there’s no updates to be had._

_They say it’s for health reasons. The last time Noctis was seen in public was the funeral. The glaives are called back to the city. There are talks about even dissolving them, when the wall flickers over their heads._

_It’s not too hard to put the pieces together. He's powering the wall and it doesn't go well.  
_

_Sometimes Prompto catches himself thinking that they should just accept the inevitable.  They are losing the war.  
_


	3. Chapter 3

Prompto hears the commotion even before he rounds the last corner. He checks his phone again, then the pager, but there’s no emergency protocol active. Still he makes himself ready to draw his weapon as he enters the corridor to the king’s chamber.

At the end he can see that the door of the king’s chamber is open with a few people rummaging around. The king himself is waiting outside, a sour expression on his face as he leans against the wall with his hands buried in his pocket. Prompto checks the time again. He’s definitely not too early, but King Noctis should have been asleep two hours ago.

Crowe is basically mirroring the king’s posture, a few steps away from him and closer to Prompto. She doesn’t look too pleased as well. Prompto’s steps falter. This is really not how he remembers the shift plan. Before he has the chance to get out his phone again to double-check everything, Crowe notices him. With a small gesture, she motions him to her side. Prompto swallows once and walks towards her. From close up, she looks even less pleased. He glances between her and King Noctis, who pointedly turns his head away from her.

Crowe notices and huffs once, before she lets her gaze rest on Prompto.

“You’re here for the next shift, right?”

Prompto nods, forcing himself to meet her eyes. He gets the feeling she’s definitely more pissed than she lets show.

“Don’t let the little shit slip away on his own. The last guard messed up, so Drautos is in a mood already. Good luck.” With a rough pat on his shoulder, she steps past Prompto and disappears down the corridors.

Prompto watches her leave for a few seconds, before he turns to the king, still leaning sourly against the wall next to the door to his chambers.

“She’s allowed to call you that?”

King Noctis scoffs. “Try stopping her.”

He perks up a bit, as if he just remembered something, before he turns slightly towards him. “Hey Prompto.”

There’s something on the king’s face, a hint of uncertainty. It takes a moment for Prompto to get it and respond. “Hey Noctis.”

It feels somewhat wrong to address the king so leisurely, but it rolls off Prompto’s tongue way too easy. There’s the tiniest lift to the corner of Noctis’ mouth, so Prompto doesn’t want to think about it further and smiles in return.

Prompto has to take a step to the side as one of the maids shoots out of the king’s chambers, her arms full of what looks like curtains. Prompto looks at her retreating form for a moment, trying to make sense of it.

“What’s this about?”

Noctis scoffs, every hit of a smile disappearing instantly.

“They caught me with the cat and now they turn over my rooms in the search of stray hair.”

“So that’s what Crowe’s mad about?”

Noctis shrugs.

“Not like it’s her allergy. I can deal.”

Prompto takes half a step to the side and turns to look inside. He knows from the building plan that the first room is supposed to be a parlor of some sorts. Prompto can’t really recognize it as such. There are various pieces of furniture scattered around half disassembled with a handful of people milling between them. There’s a corner where they stacked various items with a clear plastic sheets thrown over them.

The door to Noctis’ bedroom is standing open as well. Prompto can’t see inside from this angle, but he guesses it’s just as bad in there.

If this happens every time there’s an incident with an animal reported, he can understand Noctis trying to keep it secret just fine.

“Let’s go.”

Noctis’ voice startles Prompto out of his thoughts. When he turns around, he can see Noctis has already started down the corridor in a brisk walk.

Prompto has the mind to snatch the cane leaning just inside the king’s rooms before he runs a few steps to catch up.

“To where?”

He holds out the cane to Noctis, who glances at it with barely concealed annoyance. Without taking it, Noctis shrugs and walks on, hands still firmly in his pockets. “Don’t know, somewhere less annoying.”

Noctis slows down after they’ve turned the next corner. His steps are still even, so Prompto is content to carry the cane just in case.

The Citadel is empty for the largest parts at this hour. They don’t meet anyone as they wander down the corridors. Noctis stops by the elevators. One is already waiting, so they get in. The doors close and they are going down, stopping only on the ground floor. The public area is already closed at this time of the day, so Prompto is not surprised to see the floor empty as well. They pass the closed down gift shop, turn right from the daycare, before they end up in front of two large wooden doors, that look a bit out of place between the sleek surfaces of the Citadel.

“The library?”

Noctis nods. “Yeah, the public one is nicer.”

Prompto knows for a fact, that this is not true, having seen the private library of the royal family himself in one of his rounds, but the thought flies out of his head, when Noctis reaches for the handle.

Before Noctis can touch it, Prompto grabs him by the shoulder, halting his movement.

“What did you _do_?”

Prompto forces himself to look away from Noctis’ hand and back up to his face, but it’s hard.

Noctis evades his gaze with a frown. He draws his arm back. Prompto doesn’t try to hold on.

“Told you. The allergy.”

Prompto can’t help but look back to Noctis’ hand. He only gets to see it for the blink of an eye before Noctis firmly stuffs it back in his pocket. Prompto’s seen all kinds of allergies, but this just looks like something burned Noctis. Badly.

Noctis takes a deep breath, before nodding towards the doors in front of them.

“So, were going in or what?”

It doesn’t look like Noctis plans to lose another word about it. Prompto tries to shake the image from his head.

“Sure.”

Before Noctis can reach for the door again, Prompto jumps into action to open it for him. Noctis mutters a thanks and steps around Prompto.

There’s a light switch right inside, which Prompto pushes as well.

The library is rather spacious, but manages to look cozy either way. The shelves are old and a bit crowded to make room for more furniture. There are some couches, armchairs and desks spread through the room with an extra corner to work on laptops and some free to use computers.

Noctis navigates right to one of the couches in the back and lets himself flop down with a sigh. Prompto takes a seat on another couch directly across him, leaning the cane he brought against the armrest. It feels a bit odd to lounge around while he’s technically still on duty, but he doesn’t think Noctis would appreciate it, if he stands around awkwardly.

Prompto’s gaze falls back to Noctis’ hands, Noctis’ right now resting on the couch next to him. His first impression wasn’t wrong in the slightest. Noctis’ hand looks like he’s just pulled it out of a fire, or maybe a tank of acid, all red and blistering. It must hurt like hell.

He almost doesn’t dare to ask, but silence has never been Prompto’s forte.

“So… Is that how bad it usually is?”

Crowe’s attitude makes a lot more sense to Prompto now.

Noctis turns his head away and shrugs, but doesn’t attempt to hide his hands anymore.

“Had it worse. It’s only up to my wrists.”

That doesn’t really sound all that comforting to Prompto.

“Can’t the healers do anything? Or Potions?”

Noctis shrugs again. “Since it’s my own body doing the damage, not really.”

He looks uncomfortable. Prompto bites his lips, so he doesn’t ask more questions. Noctis is probably dealing with this for years now. There’s probably nothing they haven’t thought of trying at this point, but it still gnaws on Prompto.

He reaches down to one of the small pockets lining his legs and pulls out the generic green and white tube he always carries with him. Noctis follows his movements with his eyes curiously, until Prompto stands up to hold it out to him.

“Ever tried this? It’s just some cheap ointment with aloe really, but it works better for me than all the expensive stuff.”

Noctis takes the tube into his battered hands. Prompto winces in sympathy. Even that has to hurt.

Turning the tube in his hands, Noctis skims over the content.

“What do you use it for?”

Prompto forces himself to stop hovering and sits back down.

“Just some minor sun allergy, so it helps to soothe irritations, kicks off the healing process and all that stuff. Took me a while to figure out I don’t just have instant-sunburn. Well, at least not only.”

Noctis hums, the corners of his mouth twitching up. Carefully he unscrews the top and presses out a small dollop of cream out of the tube. Noctis’ fingers are clearly hesitant to spread it out, his touch light. He applies it on the back of his left hand and waits a bit before he takes more, almost emptying the tube. Noctis seems to realize it a moment later as well, looking back up at Prompto with a slight grimace.

“Sorry, I’ll get you a new one.”

Prompto waves him off. “Nah, it’s fine. The worst thing my allergy can to do me is giving me itches.”

He doesn’t add _and doesn’t burn my skin off_ , but it’s a close thing.

Noctis opens his mouth, maybe to argue, but he doesn’t get that far before a huge yawn cuts him off. His eyes widen in surprise, as if he hasn’t seen that coming. Prompto pulls out his phone to check the time again. Half past midnight, really way later than Noctis is awake for.

He puts his phone away.

“We can just go to a guest room, so you can get some actual sleep.”

Noctis shakes his head, but he yawns again, opening his mouth so wide his jaw cracks.

“They’re going to wake me either way and make me go back, when my room is ready. Security protocol and everything.”

Prompto frowns. He’s rather familiar with the protocol by now.

“There’s nothing in there saying you can’t sleep wherever you want.”

Noctis shrugs, glancing away.

“No, but then someone is going to watch me sleep.”

Clearly Noctis doesn’t want that. Prompto understands with as little time without eyes on him Noctis has left.

Prompto hums in thought.

“Take a nap here then and I’ll get you back when they’re done?”

It’s not really a solution, because now it’s just Prompto watching Noctis sleep, but he’s watching him anyway.

Still, Noctis seems to think about it.

“I just dragged you here and then I’m just nodding off or what?”

That’s not a no at least. Noctis looks a little unsure and more than a little exhausted, if Prompto reads him right.

“I really don’t mind. Knock yourself out.” Not like he expected Noctis to do anything else in normal circumstances. Prompto has been prepared to stand outside Noctis’ door while he sleeps anyway. At least he can sit in the library for a change.

Noctis huffs once as he slips out of his shoes to pull his legs up.

“I’d say I’m usually more fun to be around, but that would be a lie.”

Prompto spots a blanket on over the arm of a chair a few shelves down. He goes to retrieve it and hands it to Noctis, who’s still looking exhausted more than anything with a touch of embarrassment. He shouldn’t be. Prompto conjures his most winning smile before he steps back to settle on the other couch again.

“I’m sure you’re killing it at hanging out, dude.”

The snort he gets from Noctis is so unkingly Prompto can’t help but grin. Noctis scoots down a bit on the couch to lie down on his side, one arm curled under his head while he spreads the blanket over him with the other.

“Lying to your king is treason, you know that, right?”

His eyelids flutter shut and his breathing evens out almost instantly. Prompto’s eyebrows draw up. Nobody falls asleep that fast, but he’s proven wrong when Noctis starts to snore softly just a heartbeat later.

Prompto leans back a little with a small sigh.

One of Noctis’ hands is peeking out where he’s pulled up the blanket. The longer he looks at the damaged skin, the more painful it seems. Honestly, he doesn’t understand why a potion won’t work for at least relieving some of the symptoms, but then again, he doesn’t have a good grasp on the royal magic.

Prompto resigns himself to let his eyes wander a little, keeping Noctis in the corner of his eyes in an attempt to be less creepy. Then again, it has to mean something, that the king was comfortable enough with him to actually fall asleep, right?

Honestly, Prompto is still unsure, what the king exactly wants with him. He wouldn’t get teased by the other Crownsguards, if Noctis was with everyone like this. Prompto has fantasized for an embarrassing amount of time what it would be like to be special, to be special to someone like Noctis. Now that it might be happening to some extent at least, he really doesn’t know what to do with it. Not acting like a complete fool is going to be an even bigger problem now.

The King’s Knight victory theme interrupts his thoughts. Jumping at the sudden sound in the silence, it takes a moment of fumbling before he has his phone save in his grasp. Crowe’s number flashes on his display as he swipes to accept the call.

Crowe doesn’t even wait for a greeting.

“Tell me the brat is with you.”

Prompto glances to where Noctis is blinking sluggishly in his general direction.

“Uh. Yes, King Noctis is with me.”

Crowe hums and then promptly yells at the apparently unfortunate soul having woken her up for this. It could have been summed up with _I told you so_ , but she uses impressively colorful language to get her message across. Prompto makes a mental note never to wake Crow up.

With a long sigh, Crowe continues with her normal voice range into the speaker.

“Great. The room’s ready now, you can bring him back. Good night.”

She cuts him off before he can say good bye. Really, never wake Crowe.

Noctis is slowly sitting up, lifting his arm to rub his eyes with the back of his hand and aborting the movement with a wince. “They’ve finished?”

Prompto nods and stands up, stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah, let’s get you into your real bed.”

With a sleepy hum the king lowers his feet to the floor. He struggles a bit putting his shoes back on, his leg stiff and uncooperative. Once Noctis is done, Prompto holds out the cane towards him wordlessly. The king’s face falls a little, but he takes it.

The way back is slower than their earlier pace. Prompto hopes it’s more because of Noctis’ tiredness and less because those few minutes of curling up on a couch were too hard on his knees. He doesn’t ask, although it feels like Noctis is waiting for him to do so. They are in the elevator, when he feels Noctis’ eyes on him again.

“King’s Knight, huh?”

Oh. Not what Prompto’s been expecting. He’s almost forgotten about it. There’s to hoping Noctis not having recognized the melody. He really needs to change his ring tone. An awkward chuckle escapes him. “Yeah, got hooked in high school. I don’t play all that much anymore though.”

Noctis nods. “Most don’t, I guess. Finding a party for the multiplayer dungeons takes ages now.”

Maybe it should have surprised Prompto less, that Noctis knows the game or even plays himself. They are the same age after all. “Yeah, and all the randos you get into your party are either complete newbies or assholes.”

Noctis hums in agreement, smiling faintly. It only hits Prompto then that he just swore in front of the king. Oh well, he should just give up on the idea of projecting even the slightest degree of professionalism any time soon.

There’s a small pause between Noctis’ next inhale and his words.

“You know, we could play together. Sometime. If you want to.”

It really takes everything in Prompto not to gawk at Noctis. Only after he’s pretty confident, that his voice won’t come out as a squeak or an embarrassing jumble of words, he dares to answer. “Sure, why not?”

The elevator come to a halt and the doors open. The corridors are empty now, no trace of the earlier commotion.

They nearly reached the door to the king’s chambers, when Noctis speaks up again.

 “You don’t have to accept just because I’m the king.”

It comes a little sudden to Prompto. He hasn’t even thought about it that way.

“It’s fine, really,” Prompto says. Noctis is still looking at him in a way that makes Prompto think he doesn’t quite believe him though. Unable to do anything else, Prompto cracks a smile. “If you don’t suck, that is.”

It seems like that was the right idea, because Noctis’ shoulders relax visibly, as the smirks back at him. “It’s called King’s Knight. It’s technically _my_ game.”

Prompto holds out his phone with a note opened. “You got a friend code to back that up?”

Turns out, the king does.

 

***

 

_King Noctis doesn’t come back to school. It’s not a surprise really, but on some level Prompto only starts to realize it when his desk is removed from the class room._

_Prompto comes home to a silent house. His parents left earlier this week. He told them he’d think about moving away with them after the midterms are over, but the truth is that he can’t even think about what he’s going to do with himself next week._

_He drops his schoolbag somewhere on his way to his room._

_Lunafreya’s letter is still right on top in his desk drawer. He thinks about taking it out to read again, but he finds his hands shaking too much._

_He really thought he could do it. Befriend the Prince of Lucis. Befriend anyone at all. He feels the corners of his eyes burning._

_Astrals, he is so selfish. The prince’s father just died, making his life basically collapse on him, and Prompto is crying about being the same loser he’s always been._

_He throws himself on his bed, dragging out his old Chocobo plush from where he’s buried it under all the covers. He manages to stifle his first sob against it, hating himself all the more for it._

_The house feels emptier than ever before._

 

***

 

It’s only on the next day after Prompto finished his shift and slept for a couple of hours that he looks for Noctis’ profile in King’s Knight. His plan for the rest of the afternoon is lounging on his bed and messing with his phone anyway. The code works fine, but he can already feel a headache coming when he sees the king’s username. He blames it on his wacky sleep schedule that he skips the usual _it’s just me_ message. It’s good that Prompto’s username is pretty obvious or he might have been blocked instantly.

_Promptobo_ : Not really subtle are you

He doesn’t expect Noctis to respond to him instantly, but it takes barely a second before three dots are dancing in the chat window. Prompto checks the time. It’s the tail end of Noctis’ lunch break.

_HRM Noctis Lucis Caelum_ : Noctis Lucis Caelum was already taken

Prompto turns on his stomach and groans into his pillow before he responds.

_Promptobo_ : That’s fair I guess

He doesn’t ask, if Drautos knows about this. It’s better for Prompto’s sanity. Sworn to the king, not the Crownsguard.

_HRM Noctis Lucis Caelum_ : I got 10mins

_HRM Noctis Lucis Caelum_ : Test run?

Not only a moment later, there’s an invite to a multiplayer dungeon popping up at the corner of his screen.

It’s kind of embarrassing how fast Prompto tabs his screen to accept.

 

***

 

_Of course Niflheim wouldn’t just let the chance go by. It’s been maybe a month after Regis’ death when they attack. The wall flares under their missiles, but it holds, even as a whole airship crashes against it. The Glaives are deployed to cut them off. The fighting still goes on for almost three days._

_As it turns out, it’s only a decoy._

_A group of people dressed in Crownsguard attire make it to the throne room, trying to take advantage of the king being chained to the throne as long as the battle continues._

_The dagger thrown at King Noctis misses his heart by not even an inch. He survives, but it’s only because his advisor throws himself in the line of a second attempt._

_Another three days later the Council pushes for Marshal Leonis to resign along with Clarus and Gladiolus Amicitia for failing their duties. A leak of Ignis Scientia’s medical report tips the scale. Pictures of his destroyed eyes are plastered across every front page for a week._

_Titus Drautos and his glaives fill the gaps in the Crownsguard._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! At the moment it looks like 5-6 chapters, but I'm not going to swear on it.  
> Find me on tumblr @deducitetemporacarmen for low-traffic multi-fandom stuff and me complaining about writing ;)


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